Stargate: The Narration
by thehistoryfreak13
Summary: I am writing a narration of the 1998 movie Stargate. Linguist Dr. Daniel Jackson is invited by a woman to decipher an ancient hieroglyph in a military facility and he finds that the device was developed by an advanced civilization and opens a portal to teletransport to another planet. Dr. Jackson is invited to join to explore the new world and discover its secrets.
1. Chapter 1

_1928, Giza Plateau _

"Papa will we get to see the great tombs and everything! Will we really!" I squealed, gripping my Papa's white sleeve tightly. I couldn't contain my excitement at all, as I was practically jumping on the spot. Papa looked down at me smiling warmly while patting me on the head, his tanned dimples radiating in the sun's bright beams.

"I'm not sure darling, but I do promise an adventure, just don't get wandering around alright," he said bending down to my height, his ruffy mustache twerking in amusement. I giggled cheerfully pushing at Papa for him to get going.

"Well let's go then Papa no time to waste!" I yelled, determined to see the wonders of Papa's excavation. Papa laughed complying with my sudden demands and made his way towards the sounds of digging and surprise. His hand reached out behind him to hold my hand, for which I complied, delighted in the aspect of spending the day with Papa.

As we moved towards the sight, the excitement in the air heightened, all with the bustling of the workers roaming their fingers into the sand and the whistling of the wind, blowing a cool breeze into the area.

"Dr. Lanford sir please you must come see this I urge you," yelled a voice and a young English man approached Papa, reaching to shake his hand. Papa complied politely giving the young man his attention. My eyes wandered throughout the land searching for anything. In the corner there was a man searching through a box, which sparked my attention. Glancing at Papa to see if he would notice, I skipped towards the stand peering my eyes at a shining object in the worker's hands. He looked at me curiously, and I detected a look of familiarity as the worker glanced quickly t my Papa's direction then back at me.

He smiled kindly handing me something big from the box. Curious I reached for it running my hands through it delicately. It was a golden pendant, with the recognizable picture of the eye of Ra. Oh I know this, I thought to myself excitedly.

"This is Ra, no?" I whispered awed at the marvelous jewel that ran through my fingers.

"Yes my lady, how very clever you are, would you mind giving that to your father?" I nodded not bothering to look up as I continued to look closer at the pendant. The familiar doodles of the Egyptians were engraved into it, giving it the marvelous look of the sun.

"Catherine, darling come here." I looked up sharply grasping the pendant tightly in my fingers as I ran towards Papa without a word. He gasped my hand again and started to follow the young man from before.

As we walked around the mountain of soil, something stopped Papa in his tracks. Puzzled I looked up and gasped. A huge circular ring held by hundred of ropes stood tall and majestic in front of us all. The silver mane glistened in the sunlight, as is towered before us all. Papa's mouth dropped, his eyes widening in delight.

"So this was what the cover stone was covering? What in God's name is that?" He asked, his voice high in wonder.

"I wish I knew sir," answered the boy.


	2. Chapter 2

Dr. Daniel Jackson. The file was thick in papers, from photos to newspaper articles all detailing every segments of his life. I skimmed through his doctoral thesis carefully, looking to how this man was the one.

_Report on Dr. Daniel Jackson_

_Born: July 8, 1965_

_Parents: Melborn and Claire Jackson (deceased)_

_Both archeologists killed while excavating a tomb in southern Egypt. Taken into foster care as a young child. Foster parents Tom and Jane Sinclair, both deceased._

_Attended Brown University for undergraduate school with two degrees in Anthropology and History. Received his Doctorate in Egyptology and Linguistics and in well known in the archaeological community with his worked, based mainly in the Giza area._

_Jackson is a well-known linguist, known to speak 23 languages including English, Russian, German, Mandarin Chinese, Arabic, French, Greek, Persian, and mainly, Egyptian hieroglyphics. He is known for his expert understanding in Egyptian hieroglyphics and is a huge advocator of the theories of Giza's non-Egyptian origins. Jackson has lost his grants and been evicted from his apartments. His only living relatives, is well-known archaeologist Nick Ballard, his grandfather, with whom he has not been in contact with in nearly seven years. Ballard resides in a classified mental institution in California._

Sighing heavily, I put the files away. _Maybe he's the one who can figure it out. _

"Ms. Lanford, we're here," called the driver. I walked out of the car, clutching my lucky pendant in a tight grasp. How many years had it been now? 70? How could we not discover the origins of the tablets until now? Can this Daniel Jackson help us? Sighing, I walked into the hotel glancing for the poster to show me the way to Dr. Jackson's seminar. Finding it I peered into the large room, seeing it packed. I looked to the front to see a tall, but seemingly unimpressive man standing there. He had long sandy blonde hair that nearly covered his eyes. His clothes looked worn, but professional, which accompanied his round glasses.

"Dr. Jackson how would you explain the tablet found in the 1950s with the writings of the Pharaoh Kahof, naming him the all mighty rule," yelled a voice in the back of the room. Dr. Jackson straightened turning to the board to write down some Hieroglyphs from memory.

"Those as proven before repeatedly were fraud that in fact heightens the fact that there are no writings of any kind around the pyramids whatsoever. Egyptian society was rich in its writings, telling every detail of the lives of the pharaohs and the people, thinking that the future would thrive in its country's past. But for such a large structure that was the symbol of the Egyptian empire, there are no writings at all. It's blank, like the Egyptians themselves didn't build them at all. It's only the ones in Giza specifically, because many of the other copycats have writing on them. It was the Egyptians themselves that built the pyramids, and the academic community needs to focus on that to better understand the Empire's origins."

The crowd roared in outrage as many men and women rose from their seats shouting words of doubt and ridicule.

"So what do you think built the pyramids of Giza, Dr. Jackson?" yelled a voiced with curiosity. The whole room went silent waiting for an answer. Dr. Jackson paused his eyes widening in panic and confusion. I stepped closer to see what his answer would be_. He's clearly a mastermind in the translations as seen in the e crowd here_, I thought to myself. As the silence continued, many people started to get up, knowing from the silence that he did not have an answer. _Poor man, these people won't give him any chance. _

"I have no idea who built the pyramids but-" his continuing thought was interrupted by the loud sounds of people rising from their seats and leaving. _Oh dear_. Dr. Jackson continued to talk hurriedly, hoping for the people to come back. Soon the hall was completely empty and quiet. Making myself unseen, I peered over and saw Dr. Jackson sit down in exasperation. He took off his glasses and sighed loudly looking up at the ceiling, thinking.

_I'll wait for him outside_, I thought, turning my heel to head back to the car.


	3. Chapter 3

Soon as Daniel tried to explain and the hall had become quiet. The many rows of chairs stood still, mocking him, as Daniel felt, in his time of humiliation. Exhausted Daniel stepped down from the podium and setting himself down at one of the closer chairs. Daniel proceeded to remove his glasses, taking a handkerchief from his pocket to wipe them clean.

_So what now_? Sighing heavily Daniel looked up pondering on his options. He couldn't go back home now that the eviction notice was there. His grants were all used up so there was nothing there. Looking around again to see if anyone was left, a sagging ache of disappointment churned in Daniel's insides. Quickly he put his glasses back on, getting up to collect what little belongings he had. This didn't take long as all he had were a couple of clothes and books of translation and reference. A half and hour past and Daniel was bustling out of the hotel. The sky had turned an ash grey and rain was pouring heavily.

Hoping to find a shelter to stay at for now, Daniel raised his hood and walked out of the hotel, feeling the pounds of the rain hit at him in alarming numbers. He turned to the right onto Harold Street.

"Dr. Jackson!" Daniel turned at the sound of his name, to see a man in a navy blue uniform and hat ran up to him in great speed. Confused, Daniel smiled and approached the man as he came.

"Yes," he asked, bending as thee weight of his bags started to make his back ach. The man stood broadly and was at least six feet tall. Daniel couldn't make up his face, as it was clouded by the pouring rain.

"Sir please come with us there is someone who would like to speak to you please," the man asked politely motioning his head towards the car right in front of the hotel, while reaching to take his bags. Daniel hesitated wondering who would want to talk to him after the poor attention put on his seminar.

"Who?" he asked looking down at the car's window. There was the form of a woman inside, but nothing Daniel could make out.

"Please sirs I'll look after these for you, please come inside." Daniel looked up, and hesitantly gave his bags over to the man. He went inside the car, taking off his hood as the door closed.

"Dr. Jackson, these are your parents are they not?" Asked an old but vibrant voice. Surprised Daniel turned to see a familiar photo being passed in his direction. Mom. Dad. Confused Daniel glanced at the old woman, as she peered at him through his thick-rimmed glasses. A sudden wave of sadness came over as he thought about his foster parents; as they were the only ones he could ever remember having. Looking at the photo for another minute before handing it back, Daniel answered her in his curt voice.

"Foster parents," he corrected. She nodded taking the photo back and placing it into her folder that had his name on it. Daniel's expression remained suspicious, as the woman didn't say anything for a while. Daniel suddenly became annoyed, he didn't having this woman digging through his life and questioning him about it.

"What exactly is all this about?" he asked in a curt but polite tone, motioning his hand at the man at the window. Without looking at him she answered.

"Job." Resisting the urge to snort in disbelief, Daniel stared at her waiting for her to explain in detail. She stared back not saying a word. Daniel's patience started to wear thin.

"What kind of job."

"Translation," she said pausing for a moment. She looked up smiling at him politely. "Ancient Egyptian Hieroglyphs, interested?" Daniel stared at her in disbelief, doubting her every word.

Turning to leave he said, "I'm going to go now." The woman scoffed taking off her glasses and looking at him straight in the eye.

"Go where? You've just been evicted from your apartment, all your grants have run out. Everything you own in in those two bags out there." She paused motioning her hand to the window. She took out an envelope, handing it to him. "You want to know if your theories are right, this is your chance." Daniel stared. Everything she said, of course, was true no matter how much he wanted to deny it. Looking down he nodded his head. _There isn't any harm in accepting this, I supposed. _

Daniel's eyes roamed over the envelope and he accepted it. "What's his?" He asked. The woman smiled.

"Travel plans."


	4. Chapter 4

October 1994, Southern Virginia

The day progressed as any other as the two officers drove up the small chipped driveway. The sky was an ash grey hinting the descent of yet another day. The autumn leaves shine a bright orange on the streets f the small suburban town, all except for the house that they drove up to. The grass was uneven and long, there was little to no sign of life.

Weary at their task, the two officers walked down the driveway to the front door, pressing the door bell twice for emphasis. The door opened and there stood an average height blond woman. Without a word she walked away from the door, hinting that they were allowed to enter. The two men entered glancing at each other, confused at the sudden acceptance into her home.

"Mrs. O'Reilly is your husband home," he asked looking down. She didn't answer at first walking towards the kitchen, and lighting a cigarette. She took her time, waiting until after she had exhaled her first drag to answer.

"Yep," she said in a quick and abrupt voice. She wasn't looking at either man, her eyes boring into the window that showed her a view of the entire street in its dead silence.

"Could we speak to him ma'am it's a matter of great importance." She sighed looking down, crushing the cigarette onto the ashtray with an aggravated smooch. Her brow furrowed as she just stood there in absolute silence. The men stood there staring at her waiting for her to answer. Officer Blake glanced at his supervisor, a look of worry swarming his expression. What was long with this woman? Officer Jefferson didn't look back at the officer; he merely waited a look of pity on his face. Mrs. O'Reilly sighed and stood up straight looking back at the two men.

"You can try, he's in the room across the hall I suspect, he hasn't been able to leave-"her voice broke, she looked down, her hand over her mouth, as if to hold back a cry of despair. Officer Blake reached towards her, but refrained from touching her.

"Ma'am is you alright?" He asked hesitantly. Her head shot up quickly at his voice, as if she completely forgot that they were there at all.

"Just go across the hall, he's there and leave me be," Mrs. O'Rielly rasped sharply, turning quickly to go down the stairs and disappeared.

The two men looked at each other with looks of worry and dread. This assignment was already becoming hard as it was. They quickly followed Mrs. O'Reilly's directions and walked down the hall to the door there. Officer knocked, but no one answered. He knocked again and nothing. He grasped the handle to see the Colonel sitting there in silence, still as stone.

"Sir," uttered Officer Blake, "we have come from the General's office." Colonel O'Reilly stiffened turning his head ever so slightly, indicating that they had his attention. "You've been reassigned," he continued keeping his distance, as the silence was making him uneasy.

Colonel O'Reilly scoffed shaking his head slowly before talking.

"Well gentlemen, tell me what he needs me for and leave, I will report to him tomorrow as needed."

...

The two men quickly made their way out of the house not waiting for either Mr. or Mrs. O'Reilly's good-byes, if they had wanted to give any at all.

"He looks like a mess," commented Officer Blake, getting into the passenger seat of the car. "What happened to him?" Officer Blake sighed looking from behind as he was reversing the car out of the driveway.

"His kid died. Accidently shot himself with the Colonel's gun." Officer Blake stared at him in shock, his mouth wide open.

"My, god."


End file.
